


Repressed Memory

by tea_and_outer_space



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Parents, Child Abuse, Gen, basically major warning for child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:49:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6040600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_and_outer_space/pseuds/tea_and_outer_space
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iris drops a plate.<br/>It doesn't end well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Repressed Memory

**Author's Note:**

> a request for one of Iris's repressed memories.   
> according to my headcanons, Iris's parents were far from the best.

She sneezed.

Which, for a seven year old Iris, wasn’t exactly a rarity. She was sick so often that she was always in a state of sneezing or sniffling or coughing, and it wasn’t as if her family could afford or cared enough to send her to the doctors.

The plate slipped from her hands.

Of course, it was an accident.

Soap suds and a sneezing seven year old and delicate china, it could only lead to one thing. The plate shattered on the ground, and Iris froze.

Sure enough, her parents rushed in a second later.

Iris hopped down from the stool in front of the kitchen sink, and began stuttering out apologies as she began to sweep up the shards with her bare hands, fine pieces of glass lodging into her small palms.

The pain from the glass would be a lot less than the pain she’d get if she didn’t fix this quickly.

“Stop,” her father ordered, his stern voice leaving no room for argument. “Drop it.”

Iris dropped the glass instantly, not daring to think of disobeying, and stared up at her parents with bleary eyes.

“Go to your room. You will be punished later,” he said, the words feeling rather like a death sentence.

Iris stood, wiping her wet and scratched palms on her apron, and turned to move around the pile of broken glass.

“I didn’t say to avoid it,” her father declared.

Iris screwed her eyes shut, turning back, her breath shuddering. She walked through the broken glass, biting down on her lip, trying to force herself not to cry.

Things were always worse if she cried.

**Author's Note:**

> again, requests for drabbles are always open! and as seen here, they don't always have to be happy


End file.
